The Psychologist
by kloudklocvalley
Summary: Fem-OC-North Korea. North Korea was pretty sure that she was OK the way she was – until Cuba suggested that she take a trip to the psychologist. That was a big eye-opener. Random-fic…


**Summary**: Fem-OC-North Korea. North Korea was pretty sure that she was OK the way she was – until Cuba suggested that she take a trip to the psychologist. That was a big eye-opener. Random-fic…

**Notes**: A random story I wrote while at school…I have no idea why I wrote it, but it just came out, and I wanted to publish it, so here it is – introducing my OC-North Korea, Kim O-kwang.

~XxX~

It had all started off rather horribly, really, and North Korea had no idea how she found herself outside the office of an apparent genius psychologist. She usually dressed in her solemn _hanbok_, but today, she was heading out into the city in modern clothes; nothing special, just a plain black jacket over a dark red shirt and jeans…with boots that could've belonged to a man. Her soft, dark hair was tied up by Vietnam, who had learnt a few tricks from Taiwan. She did see a lot of heads turn, especially from men, but she was too nervous at the prospect of visiting a psychologist for the first time that she completely ignored them.

Oh what she would give to be anywhere else in the world except here. Watching Russia being chased around by Belarus was more amusing than _this_ was. Scowling inwardly, she squared her shoulders and hardened her eyes and mind. She was North Korea: feared, hated and singled out by the world. She had taken on the harsh road of a communist despite fully knowing the consequences, to be powerful enough to survive. Something as petty as a visit to the psychologist was nothing.

Swallowing, she raised a surprisingly delicate hand and was about to knock on the polished mahogany door with a golden tablet engraved with the name [J.E. Schaffer] when a large hand clamped down on her narrow shoulder. She looked up, unsurprised to see Russia with his usual pleasant smile. He had taken off his heavy coat, revealing a turtleneck and pants. It still attracted perplexed eyes with the light scarf draped over his shoulders as always, but it was better.

"Well, I suppose we should go in, да?"

Nodding, North Korea knocked twice on the smooth surface, twisted the doorknob and entered with Russia towering behind her.

"Ah, you must be Ms. Kim, yes?"

There was a young woman in her late twenties seat behind the large desk. Her auburn hair nearly fell over one eye, and her face was smooth and devoid of emotion, reminding North Korea strongly of Hong Kong.

And so started North Korea's first visit to the psychologist…all because of a damn Caribbean nation…

- ONE DAY EARLIER -

"So, I thought we should have this little get-together as former or current Socialists, да?" stated Russia simply, giving the whole table what might've been a radiant smile if they had seen him for the first time. With murmurs of agreement and hearty cheers and whoops, the normally reserved socialists shared drinks, stories and jokes. North Korea didn't really expect Russia to be the festive type, but the superpower _was_ cracked, so she berated herself for not preparing herself for the unexpected.

"Oi, you just going to stand there all day long and do nothing?" exclaimed Cuba, throwing an arm around her, "Come on, join me and Vietnam! She was just starting on about the Vietnam War!" He pushed a glass of punch into her pale, spidery hand. Rather uncomfortable at the muscular arm that was draped over her shoulders, North Korea scowled as she sipped the cool refreshment.

"I wasn't lying," snapped Vietnam, seeming terribly miffed, "It was a war in my own country, Cuba. I'd know my facts."

"Yeah, right, like I'd believe someone like South Korea beat both you and Vietcong 17:1!"

"Hey, the ROK Marine Corps were a terror on the battlefield, you know! They just took over one place after another!"

"Yeah, and he took on 2400 with just 300 of his own and came out alive," snorted Cuba, grinning good-naturedly, "Just admit it, you were going crazy because of the whole guerilla war thing in your turf and dreamt all this stuff up."

With a indignant huff, Vietnam snapped up some sunflower seeds (which were there for somewhat obvious reasons) and glared pointedly at a cackling Cuba and a grudgingly smiling North Korea before turning to Laos and falling deep into a conversation for girls only. It was during these times that North Korea felt truly like an odd black sheep. She didn't know the latest fashions. She wasn't interested in celebrities and rock stars. The only thing she could pretty much converse for a decent amount of time about was economics and other serious subjects.

"So, been up to anything recently?" asked Cuba, not letting go as he drained a glass of wine. North Korea barely managed to shrug her shoulders.

"The usual, spread nuke threats, experiment, making sure everything goes along smoothly."

"Keep it up and the bleach-haired bastard WILL retaliate – plus things are worse with the torpedo bombing and all. You know: about that submarine you supposedly sank?"

North Korea's mouth twisted in some sort of a grimace as she gritted her teeth.

"I did _not_ sink that damn ship, got it? What have I to gain by doing such an idiotic thing? I'm over 2000 thousand years old, for heavens sake, I know my enemies and situation."

"Chill, North, chill, I was just saying that you've got to be careful, especially during these times. It might be South Korea's government doing something secret. It might be hamburger-idiot's one, or both of them, or perhaps a third party or whatever, but keep your eyes wide open."

"Your ability to advise is amazingly and utterly inspiring, truly, Cuba, I am completely mesmerized and awed to the depths of my cold, unwavering heart."

"Well thank you!"

With a chortle, North Korea slid out from under his deeply tanned, muscular arm. Tugging at her black hanbok dispassionately, she became slightly uneasy at the fact that she was starting to ease up. The horrors of paranoia crept up her mind like dark, grappling tendrils. Shaking her head, allowing the long, free locks of her soft black hair to wave about, she took in a deep breath and drained a glass of rice wine.

She then proceeded to choke at Cuba's next words.

"You know, have you ever considered visiting a psychologist?"

~X~

And thus, North Korea was now standing in J.E. Schaffer's office with Russia behind her, under the human name and guise Kim O-kwang. Russia was using his normal human name: Ivan Braginski. If Schaffer had any complaints about his strange manner of clothing, she kept them to herself, which was most probably the wisest thing to do.

"So, you're reason for seeking my assistance, Ms. Kim?"

"Well, err; my friend suggested I take a few sessions, but…I suppose I need the most help in the morality department, I guess."

Schaffer raised an eyebrow, but didn't question any further for the moment. Russia smile grew wider, and North Korea grimaced, a narrow, slanted eyebrow twitching involuntarily.

She could already tell that this was going to be a long day.

~X~

Cuba had been waiting for her patiently on the ground floor with an exited grin, his cigarettes stowed away due to the building having a non-smoking policy. He stepped forwards as North Korea and Russia hobbled out of the elevator.

"So, how did things go?"

North Korea shuddered and turned her normally unreadable, dark brown eyes over to Cuba.

"Yeah, things went fine," she half-whispered, and then proceeded to carry on as though nothing more had ever happened. Bewildered, Cuba turned to Russia, who was grinning cheerily than ever.

"Got any ideas?"

Russia hummed.

"I think we should catch up with North Korea and then talk, да?"

With a sigh, Cuba realized that he wasn't going to get a clear answer anytime soon, and nodded, following the seemingly disturbed North Korea out of the building, scratching his head as he lit his cigarette once outside. Tightening his thick, spiked ponytail, Cuba grumbled a curse as North Korea remained quiet for some five minutes even after she arrived at the station.

"_Now_, would you please explain?" he growled.

"S-she told me to…"

"She told you to what?"

"She told me to get a life…and a boyfriend…"

Silence fell over the trio for an uncertain amount of time. Staring incredulously at the pale, lithe country, Cuba then erupted into howls of laughter with Russia chanting ominously next to him – they could already imagine the torture that North Korea would put herself through; perhaps trying to 'improve' herself wasn't the best way to happiness.

~XxX~

~KoreanoWaltz


End file.
